Red=Hot

    Southern Utah is notorious for it's soaring red cliffs, red sand dunes, red rocks, red roads. I am convinced that there is a reason for all the red. Everything is red because southern Utah is an oven in the summer and the rocks and cliffs are hot coals. Hailey and I traveled south a couple of weeks ago in order to poke around Zion's for a bit. We didn't know that the temperature was going to drain every bit of life we had to give. It was 108 degrees in the sun. In the shade it dropped to 101. We tried our best to enjoy the majesty and wonder of the 2000 foot cliff walls and the beauty of the Virgin River banked by lush trees and grasses.            Crowds were drawn to the River Walk (the mouth of the "Narrows"). We all haggardly trudged through the river, just grateful for the relief of cool water washing through our legs. Nobody expected to reach the area where the sheer cliffs narrow and nearly fall together. Even walking three miles was arduous in this heat despite the scenery.
    By three o'clock we were done for. Collapsing into the seats of the park shuttle, we sipped from our 100 degrees water bottles and wound our way down the red road under the towering red cliffs. Upon reaching the car I realized that my steering wheel was on fire. Soon we were heading back to St. George in an air conditioned paradise on wheels. Once back at the house Hailey and I sullenly ate popsicles and then
passed out from heat exhaustion. We didn't even get up to eat dinner.



*a fanny pack, aviator sunglasses, sleeveless Pink Floyd shirt??
I don't dress her!

The Teen Room

There comes a time when a teen doesn't want to climb a ladder to get into bed anymore. There is also a time when she packs up all the beloved stuffed animals and American Girl Doll accessories and art supplies that were so important to her in the past. And that lime green paint on the walls? It has to go too. The problem is where all those treasures end up. Hailey's vast collections of bottle caps, bullet casings, marbles, seashells, rocks etc. etc. etc. end up cluttering my once clutter-free basement. And nothing can be thrown away EVER! she says.
So after weeks of clearing Hailey's "little girl" room of it's little girl memories, we painted the walls a light blue, put in a double bed and bought a plethora of throw pillows. Now it's a teen room. In this new space you will find "big girl" stuff like a laptop, an iphone, a stereo, jewelry and lotions. But you will also find a precious and irreplaceable item from childhood: "doggy blanket", a constant companion since age three. This ragged blanket will always be in Hailey's bedroom no matter where her bedroom happens to be.


 Old Room, Old Treasures

"under-the-bed" desk used to be so cool

The coolest room in the house

He Thinks He's Still Little

Sometimes I mess with Tanner by testing him. Most of the time I don't know what's going on in his little head. It is hard to truly know what he has learned and what he thinks about himself. Recently, I found an old "baby pool" in the back garage and remembered a three year old Tanner standing next to it so that he could splash with his little hands. It was a water toy designed for "hands only" type of play and not for sitting inside. I brought the well made plaything out of the shadows, sprayed off the decade old cobwebs and insect carcasses and filled it with water. Then I let Tanner out into the yard to see what he would do with the "new thing". I'll be darned if he didn't climb into the shallow water as if he were a toddler. He still thinks he's little. So even if the toy is a STEP 2 (for 24 month old) it still withstood a 120 pound 196 month old. Now that's durable.

Don't Mess With Tradition

Every June forever and ever us girls will go on our little bike ride in Logan. The weekend will start by fastening our road bikes to various SUV's and driving to one of our favorite places. We will stay in the same hotel as always and eat at the same Indian food place/gas station where we can buy tikka masala, garlic naan, fuel, aspirin and gummy bears from our waiter. Next we will make a convoy down to the local ice cream shop and talk until it gets too cold. We will talk about tomorrow's ride and how none of us have ridden a bike since last year's ride (except mom, who can out ride us all). Then we'll drive back to the hotel and attempt to sleep, but really it is just like a sleepover party and we giggle and watch TV late into the night.When the alarm goes off the next morning four sisters groan and try to make excuses about how to make the upcoming ride shorter by cheating. But when we finally get to the starting line we realize how lucky we are to ride side by side with a friend, a sister, or a mother.And even though we all return home with tender butts, sore shoulders and sunburned arms, the pain is worth the time we spent together. Bring on LRRH 2015!

LRRH 2014

The Purpose Of The Middle Finger

Three weeks ago I smashed the guts out of my finger. I was left with a painful nub wrapped safely in a rather large and unwieldy splint. During that time I have learned the purpose of having a middle finger. Aside from continually flipping the bird, I lost the ability to do most of the mundane things I do on a daily basis. The most important aspect of having five functional fingers is the ability to grip. Almost every action involves a grip: pulling heavy things, pushing heavy things, lifting heavy things. So in essence, changing, bathing and moving Tanner was an impossibility. Also I found folding laundry, making beds and doing the dishes to be very cumbersome using only one hand. Try washing your hair with one hand. For that matter try washing your hand with one hand. Try it!

So although I can survive using just one hand I am so grateful I have two. After three weeks I am well on my way to a fully functional grasp. Already there is a tiny newborn fingernail growing right where it should and by the end of the summer it may need a trim.

The Full Moon And My Finger

It started out as a typical Tuesday afternoon. I was the loving, wonderful mother, dropping everything to please my typical teenage daughter. I sat in the passenger seat as Hailey drove around Kaysville, testing her driving skills. Then I cooked her favorite dinner. Then I sat on the couch and watched her favorite TV show with her. Peace reigned, we were contentedly spending time together, all was well.

Then something happened. The moon reached it's zenith of fullness and Hailey and I turned into a couple of crazy people. We began "fighting" over the remote control. I wanted to watch "my" show, she wanted to watch "her" show. Then I began chasing her through the house. She headed toward her room and I was right behind her as she slammed her bedroom door. Except part of me was in the way of the door, yet the solid wood door closed nonetheless. Then I felt a strange numbness in my finger and I yelped like a dog.

I didn't want to look at it.  I knew it was bad due to the lack of pain. So I looked at it. The top of my middle finger looked fine until I touched it and saw the flesh move unnaturally. It was bad, I could see bone. I forced Hailey to "LOOK AT IT"!!! That was her first punishment.

I drove myself to the ER, all the while my finger throbbed like a big, bloody blob of alien flesh. The physician looked at it and congratulated me on a job well done. Then he pried my precious fingernail out of it's nail bed and put it in a cup. Next as he tried to find salvageable flesh to sew he used the phrase "this is pretty pulverized", which made me feel great (not really). After watching the curved suture needle go in and out of my finger I was surprised when the doctor started re-seating my dead fingernail. Apparently my old nail will protect my wound for the next two weeks and then I can pull it off again. And for the next year a brand new, delicate nail will grow.

So now I am disabled. I can't grip, I can't dig, I can't write. And best/worst of all I can't take care of Tanner. Now for Hailey's true punishment for slamming my finger in her door.....SHE has to change and bathe and help her brother. Ha! Finally! I think I will continue to fake my intense pain for at least a month so that she can become proficient at her new job. Guilt is the best manipulator.

St. George Has The Hosenfelds

 Southern Utah is going to be seeing the Hosenfelds a lot more often. With a speed of 90mph (if there is no highway patrol and it's late) we can drive there in 3.5 quick hours, have a comfy house to stay in and wake up to the most stunning red rock cliffs imaginable. St George is the preeminent playground for all of us because it offers EVERYTHING! Last week we brought 10 bikes, climbing gear, hiking boots, swimsuits and sand toys. Used them all!!

sunbathing teens with their headphones on high

r

 almost made it to the road

weakling at Chuckawalla